


The English Teacher

by Cyane



Series: The Teacher [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Families of Choice, Father-Son Relationship, George Washington is a Dad, Hurt Alexander Hamilton, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 03:23:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13332426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyane/pseuds/Cyane
Summary: Alexander's English assignment is to write an essay on his family.





	The English Teacher

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of the "The Teacher" series, which will have several fics each dealing with a high school AU of parental Gwash and human disaster Hamilton.
> 
> So... if you like it, feel free to bookmark the series. (Or whatever.)

If George Washington knew one thing about Hamilton, it was that he never seemed to stop writing; sometimes to an insufferable degree. 

Unlike the other students, Alexander Hamilton groaned in frustration whenever there were limits to how long their papers could be. Whenever he turned something in there were words scribbled in tiny print, rolling around the lines and margins.

And when he wasn't writing, he was talking. Not the mindless chatter that students whispered quietly about. Alexander spoke clearly, eloquently- aggressively, and far too much. Oftentimes, George saw Aaron Burr lean over and hiss at him to shut up. (Which, of course, he never did.)

Although it was anything but discouraging to George; as a teacher, there was nothing more satisfying than a student who was just as passonate about the subject. 

Limits had to be set, of course. For their preliminary essay, Alexander turned in ten sheets of paper, handwritten, in tiny print, front and back. Twenty full pages of writings about the English language- even going somewhat in depth with French and Spanish. Although George had a suspicion Alexander was trying to impress him, it soon became clear that George would be the one trying to impress Alexander. 

Because when Alexander liked a lesson or a project, it didn't mean it was easy. It meant that it was a challenge, that it was interesting-- George actually found himself actively trying to make more essays due, just so he could review and edit Alexander's. 

While they were lengthy, to put it lightly, they had incredible diction and often a strong and headstrong thesis. The boy had a way to words, George had to admit. 

Each year, at the beginning of the second semester, the English department had a demand for a more personal essay. It had been decided that it would be all about the family of the writer, that year. 

(In George's opinion, a poor descision. Students often had triggers, but family was almost always a touchy subject for some. Broken, divorced, dead... indeed, a poor choice.)

And George had expected a few _choice_ words from Hamilton when he announced it. Alexander made his opinion loud and clear, and it was obvious that the subject would bore him to death before all else.

"The second semester personal essays will be due in a week, next Tuesday. The theme of these will be based around your own family. Papers need to be at least one page-" George gave a look to John Jay as he noted the minimum, "-and at most, ten." He sent a look to Alexander. 

To his shock, Alexander remained silent, looking at his desk. He had a small frown on his face, but that was the extent of his protest. 

"Make sure you include the elements we talked about last time. If you weren't here, please come get the paper from me after class. Now, get to work on your grammar book, pages 172 through 200. Those are due on the fifth."

George sat back at his desk and began sifting through folders. When he glanced up at the class after an hour, the majority of them were chatting aimlessly. A select few; namely Madison, Schuyler, and Burr, were working diligently. Hamilton hadn't moved. He was still staring at his desk, paper blank in front of him. 

Hamilton's paper was _blank_.

George frowned but turned back to his own work. If Hamilton didn't have anything done by the following class period, he would intervene. 

English was the last period of the day, so when the bell rang, everyone immediately ran out, desperate to get home and have at least a few hours to relax. To George's surprise- once again... it seemed to be a reoccurring feature-- Hamilton lagged behind, walking over to his desk as the rest of the class left. 

"...sir?" 

George set down his paperwork, giving Alexander his full attention. Whatever it was, it had to be serious; Alexander rarely asked for anything. "Yes?"

Alexander seemed to work his throat for a moment, steeling himself. "Is there any other... any other topic I'd be able to use for my essay?"

Ah. George lightened immediately, feeling a pang by of dry amusement. Of course the prompt bored him. Alexander would probably prefer an argumentative essay based on the early continental US. 

He gave a tired smile. "Not for this, Alexander. This is the topic given to us from the English department, and it'll have to go to them for grading. They want to see how well you use the elements of writing we've been discussing. I'm sorry if you don't find it all that interesting."

Alexander was wringing his wrists, still looking nervous. He opened his mouth again, and George prepared for the onslaught of words. 

But it never came.

As the seconds ticked by, George felt the concern begin rising again. He didn't know much about Alexander's home life- not whatsoever, actually. He wasn't sure he'd ever looked into it. George had known dozens of students with... dysfunctional families... perhaps Alexander was one of them?

After a good five seconds of complete silence, Alex's jaw clapped shut and he gave a slow nod. "...Right. I'll do my best, then. On the outline for the essay- we... we have to fill out all of it?"

George frowned. "For full points. I promise there is nothing too intrusive. Look it over, Alexander. If you still need to change some things, we can talk then."

Alex looked just as discontented as he had when the conversation started, but nodded again, hiked his backpack up, and mumbled a 'thank you' before quickly walking out of the now-empty classroom. George felt his eyes follow the boy. 

_Odd._

The next day came far too slowly. George was practically itching to get to the weekend, when Martha came back from her trip. Just two more days.

The late bell rang and several students came running through the door, blabbering on about how they 'weren't late since their car broke down on the way back from lunch'. George let Thomas keep explaining the situation for a few minutes before standing up.

"--That's quite enough, Mr. Jefferson. I understand." The three boys slumped in relief. "Now, to your essays. First, please turn in your essay outline stapled to your final draft. I'll grade your drafts as we work. The final paper will be due on Friday, and they will go to the district for review, so do your best work."

Everyone groaned, excluding Alexander. George watched to see if the boy had done his homework- and, as Alexander pulled out a couple sheets of lined paper, it seemed he had. Only two pages, plus the outline. 

It was probably the shortest essay he had ever written. 

Halfway through the class period, George was reading the drafts silently at his desk. In the background, he vacantly heard Alexander and Thomas arguing viciously about something, but it was nothing new. 

George scribbled a 'D-' on John Jay's paper and moved on. Alexander's essay draft was next. A bit interested to see what the boy _had_ written, George leaned back, adjusted his reading glasses, and began:

 

_Alexander Hamilton, Period 8, English, Washington._  
_2nd Semester - District Essay_

_Family is slightly important. My foster father has allowed me a place to live, and my foster mother, food to eat. I suppose this is a necessity to survive, and therefore, a family is necessary._  
_My thirteenth foster family took me in half of a year ago, which has now been my record for staying at a single home. This is a good thing, because if I did not have another option for a foster home, I would most definitely be in juvie or back in the system- things that would go on my permanent record and ruin my chances further at getting into university._  
_Because family structure..._

 

It went on for some time like that. George slowly set the paper down, feeling something knotting in his stomach, some sort of dread. He hadn't even known Alexander was in a foster home-- his thirteenth, no less. 

The way he talked about family... almost in a clinical sort of way. Monotone. Alexander's word choice seemed flat, the essay seemed drab and forced. It was obviously still an essay worth an A, but George could obviously see the difference. While still better than the majority of students, it obviously wasn't his best work, which was appalling for someone of Alexander's skill. 

"'Allowed' me a place to live."  
"'Allowed' me food to eat."

Those things are more than allowed- those things are required for survival, and Alexander wrote them in as if he should be grateful. On one hand, yes, it was a blessing that the family was able to provide for him, but-- the greatest part about being with a family shouldn't be because they kept you alive.

Five minutes before class ended, George stood up. "Hamilton?"

"Sir?"

"See me after class?"

Alexander's face slackened, and panic overtook his his eyes, but he managed to reign it in and choke out, "Yes, sir." 

Jefferson let out a snide remark that received a few snickers, but was ultimately ignored. 

George watched him for another moment before nodding and sitting back in his own seat, trying to rack his brain for anything he could possibly telll Alexander without offending or making Alex defensive.

Stupidly enough, George didn't want to loose the trust he thought he had built with Alexander. Of course, he had to push all of it aside- this was work, this was business. 

The bell rang and George noticed Alexander dragging his feet as he made his way over to George's desk. 

"Sir?" Alexander promoted again, failing to hide the subtle tremor in his voice. "What did you need, sir?" 

George took a deep breath. _Rip it off like a band-aid, George._ He slid out the two papers of Alexander's personal essay. Alexander deflated as he saw them. 

"Mr. Washington, I know it's not my best work- I just couldn't find the time--"

"--You _always_ find the time," George laughed out, attempting to keep the atmosphere light. "Alexander, just last Wednesday, you had thirty minutes to write a paragraph and you turned in six pages. Don't tell me you didn't have the time, son."

"I'm not your son." Hamilton mumbled half-heartedly. 

" _Alexander,_ you had two days to write a draft of this essay, so I'm guessing it had absolutely nothing to do with time, merely the topic."

Alexander's cheek twitched.

"I did the assignment, _sir_." Alexander's voice was cold and hard... so much for not letting him get defensive. 

George forced his expression to soften into something kinder. "Alexander--"

"--so what's the problem?!"

His eyes were wide, challenging. Fortunately for George, he was ex-military, and he had a steel backbone. A few snaps from a teenager weren't about to stop him. 

"You've already admitted that it isn't your best work. Well? I want to see your best work, Alexander."

"That's the best I could do!" Alexander shouted. George reeled back a bit at the sight of Alex's glistening eyes. "I'm a system kid, you get that? I don't _have_ a family!"

George felt his heart break. He and Martha were unable to have children, and their foreign exchange student, Lafayette, had been a light in their lives. But- if George was completely honest- he wished that if he had been able to have a child, it would've been Alexander Hamilton. 

Alexander deserved so much better. 

"What do you think family is, Alexander?"

The boy shot him a look, which George decided he deserved. "Alright- alright, I don't mean to be patronizing, Alexander. All I'm saying is that when I say you need to write an essay on 'family', I'm not necessarily talking about blood, son."

"My foster family--"

"--and not about them, either. Son, you make your family. Family is more of an adjective than a noun. What about Laurens? Mulligan? What of Lafayette?"

Alexander looked confused. "They... they're my friends, sir... I don't...?"

"Family of choice." 

Alexander's eyelids fluttered suddenly, and he stook a literal step back from the power the words had. "Is that- you'll... you'll take that? Full grade?"

"Of course."

Alexander grinned. His hands fell to his side as pure relief flooded him. "Thank you, Mr. Washington. I can have it done by tomorrow, drafts included-- I can, I swear. Eleven pages!"

George huffed out an exasperated laugh. "Alexander, the limit is still ten pages. Try not to write a novel for me."

"Of course!" Alexander said, scrambling to collect his things. "Ten pages, outline, draft- I can finish by ten o'clock AM tomorrow!"

And _that_ was the Alexander George had been missing. 

"You have until Friday, 3:20 in the afternoon!" George called after Alexander, but the boy was already running out of the classroom. The usual excited manner was back in action. 

George looked a the first essay distastfully and folded it up neatly before shoving it in the bin. It positively enraged him that any child felt that way about their own family, biological, legal, or otherwise. It was also unfortunate that it was so common. As a teacher, George had seen it all.

 

True to his word, Alexander came in during lunch the following day to turn in his finished essay. 

George flipped through it. "Eleven pages...?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow. In front of him, Alexander shrugged helplessly.

"You're asking a bird not to fly, sir."

"Hah," George murmured, flipping back to the first page. "Alright. Well, I'll grade this right now. And you'll get extra credit for turning it in early. You go eat your lunch, will you? Don't run yourself into the ground, son."

The latter order would be, of course, ignored. 

Alexander turned to walk out. "Uh- sir?" He didn't so much as turn around.

"Yes, Alexander?"

"Thanks."

"Hmm. Go eat."

The boy snorted but quickly left the room. 

For a moment, George smiled after him, glad it had worked out. He turned to the essay; based on the length alone, it would take him a good forty-five minutes to grade. 

 

_Alexander Hamilton, Period 8, English, Washington._  
_2nd Semester - District Essay_

_\-- Family is a rather strange concept, is it not? You are either borne in or placed in a group of people who are supposed to utilize specific roles in your own life, and you, to them. Yet we have no choice in who are own families actually are._  
_People often say that family is the most important thing; that they will be there for you when no one else will be. However I've found almost the opposite, from my own personal experience. As my mother and cousins are dead and my father left us all, I cannot fathom how my family has been there for me since my immigration to New York._  
_Besides this, I have also found that those who are not my family- foster or otherwise- have almost always been there for me. These are my friends, the people I choose to allign myself with. So, in a matter of speaking, I have made my own family, and they have done me better than any other I have been placed in._

_John Laurens, Hercules Mulligan, Lafayette Washington-- they're my brothers. Angelica, Peggy, and Eliza Schuyler are my sisters. I've forged my own family based on friendship, but it's so much more than that. I have all the roles filled that I need for a family._

 

George froze.

 

_Even parental roles in my life are fulfilled by teachers._

 

He couldn't help the small, genuine smile that slowly stretched onto his face. His students were the children he would never be able to have. If he could be there for them, he would. 

_"I'm not your son."_

And yet. When George finished, he scribbled an 'A' on the front of the essay and put it in the stack to be sent to the district.

_You might not have a say in who your blood relatives turn out to be, or who you were raised by. Maybe not the family you were placed with. But you do have a say in who is your family, Alexander. And you've chosen well._

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this was going to have a lot more child abuse themes to it, graphic, etc. But I decided to leave that for other works in this series. 
> 
> Hopefully you enjoyed reading!


End file.
